


Fundamentally Wrong

by spoopynina



Category: EOS 10 (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Depression, Gen, No Dialogue, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, There's a lot of swearing, and a couple made up drugs/drinks bc it's space! who needs cocaine when ur in space, and a little bit of self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 08:57:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12814083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoopynina/pseuds/spoopynina
Summary: Some days it’s really fucking hard.A character study type thing in which Ryan has a really bad day.





	Fundamentally Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fic in the Eos 10 fandom... or in any fandom. This is my first fic! It is very likely that this is completely out of character and I am very sorry I just really wanted to write this? Um I hope you enjoy!!  
> Also! I headcanon that Ryan's implant not only regulates the chemicals in his brain when exposed to a drug, but all of the time. It helps regulate his moods and keeps him stable, like an antidepressant or a mood stabilizer. The implant also suppresses some of his desires for drugs.  
> 

Some days it’s really fucking hard.

It’s really fucking hard to wake up in the morning and go about your day like you aren’t craving something, something a lot stronger than coffee. It’s not like the implant doesn’t work, it’s just that some days are just _worse_. The sun seems too bright, your coworkers seem so much more annoying than they usually are, and the questions, _oh the fucking questions!_ Questions suck. If one more person asks you why you’re grumpy, or talks about how you must have woken on the wrong side of the bed, you might just have to rip your hair out. You wish that people would just mind their fucking business and leave you alone to think about everything you’ve done wrong in your life in peace and quiet.

You really want some painkillers. That would really be great right now. Just something to put a little fog over your mind to get through the day.

You don’t take anything though. You owe it to your family. To your annoying coworkers, or should you say your annoying friends. They see so highly of you. Look at Ryan! He’s been through so much and he can still stay clean for fifteen sweeps! If he relapsed now I would be very disappointed in him and I would hate his pathetic fucking guts! And yeah, you already hate your own pathetic fucking guts for even _thinking_ about this in the first place, but sometimes these days on this hunk of metal are so _fucking hard_.

You miss your dad. You miss your sister. You miss the rush of snorting Telcan II right after downing what was left of a bottle of warm Horgardian whisky. The whole process was fucking nasty but the high was… intense and really really fun. You like to think of your past self as a “party boy” and not the fucking loser junkie you really were. It helps you cope with all the stupid shit you did. But you think sugarcoating your past isn’t really helping anymore. There are more bad days than there used to be. God, why can’t things just be _easy_ for once! You’ve been sober for so fucking long, doesn’t the universe think you deserve a break! But you guess your dumb stupid mind won’t let you forget the past, or at least won’t let you remember it without hating every single part of it, every part of yourself.

You know the _really_ pathetic part? This will all blow over tomorrow and the implant will be working fine and dandy again and you’ll feel so positive and so hopeful that you will be able make it another day. You’ll think, “Oh! Yesterday I was just overreacting… something just rubbed me the wrong way… I was just in a bad mood.” But really, you will just be denying that you will have another bad day in the future, many more bad days in fact, and you will do nothing about it. Because you really just don’t care anymore! Even on a good day, it still feels like nothing will fucking matter in the end so why don’t you go have sex with a stranger, or drink a little too much with your buddies, or deny any feelings you have for dudes, or a specific dude. Cause _who wants to prove those homophobic assholes from high school right?_

Maybe something’s wrong with you. Yeah, maybe something’s just wrong with you on a _fundamental level_. This isn’t the most doctorly way to think about what’s happening in your brain, but it’s kind of close. Depression is common in people after they get sober. And especially more common in people who had depression _before_ becoming a loser addict. You just wrote off therapy your whole life because of some stupid offhand comment your father, or maybe it was your mother, made once. You don’t even know what it was anymore. You should probably talk to a therapist. But you guess you can think about that after you get drunk alone in your sleeping quarters and pass out on your couch. You probably won’t remember this thought tomorrow morning and even if you do, the day won’t be as bad as today was, so it’s fine! Why do you need to talk to a therapist when your implant keeps you in check? You’ll feel fine in the morning, even if you have a really bad hangover… everything will be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!!


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